Well! the
Prince had found chance-taking not unfortunate. With the episode as
foundation, Count William had already builded up the future queenship
of England. The strong Count could do--and, as it seemed, was now in
train to do--indomitable deeds to serve his son-in-law; and now the
beggar of five minutes since foresaw himself, with this girl's love as
ladder, mounting to the high habitations of the King of England, the
Lord of Ireland, and the Duke of Aquitaine. Thus they would herald
him.
So he embraced the girl. "Hail, Queen of England!" said the Prince;
and then, "If I forget--" His voice broke awkwardly. "My dear, if ever
I forget--!" Their lips met now. The nightingale discoursed as if on a
wager.
Presently was mingled with the bird's descant another kind of singing.
Beyond the yew-hedge as these two stood silent, breast to breast,
passed young Jehan Kuypelant, one of the pages, fitting to the
accompaniment of a lute his paraphrase of the song which Archilochus
of Sicyon very anciently made in honor of Venus Melaenis, the tender
Venus of the Dark.
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